


Constellations

by Polyhexian



Series: Humanformers: The Music AU [44]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Angst, Gen, Humanformers, POV Third Person, Therapy, trauma time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:41:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26706898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polyhexian/pseuds/Polyhexian
Summary: Brainstorm talks to his therapist about relationships.
Series: Humanformers: The Music AU [44]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1859230
Comments: 7
Kudos: 21





	Constellations

"Nah. One night stands only."

"Why do you think you've relied so heavily on limiting your sexual encounters in this way?"

Brainstorm shrugged, leaning on the armchair and looking past his therapist out the bay windows behind her and at the busy intersection beyond. "Just easier, I guess."

"Easier than what?"

"Relationships. Sex is easy. If you have bad sex you just don't have sex again." 

"Do you often have bad sex?"

Brainstorm shrugged.

"When did you first start having sex?"

"I don't want to answer that."

"That's fine. You don't have to. Why aren't you interested in relationships, then?'

"I mean, you know. Relationships are time consuming," he explained, "and I've always been busy enough. With school, and with- with Quark, and everything, I didn't have time for meeting people and dating and managing a relationship."

"You go through the effort of vetting people and setting up encounters," she said, gesturing, "Is that not basically the same thing without maintaining a relationship afterward?" 

"No, no, it's different," Brainstorm argued, "It takes less like- emotional labour. Sex is easy. It burns off stress and I'm always stressed. If you just keep it to strangers then it's less work."

"Do you think that being emotionally invested in other people is work?" 

He frowned. "I suppose."

"Is it ever worth the effort?"

"Sometimes," he admitted, "I like being friends with Chromedome, but that's a lot of work."

"Let's talk about Chromedome," his therapist said, shifting her posture, "You lived with him for seven years before he was expelled, right?"

"Yeah. From a dorm to a university-owned apartment. Well, I guess now I'm living with him again in his boyfriend's house."

"You don't seem to have a lot of important relationships in your life, but you put a lot of value on the ones you do have. Do you think that's true?"

Brainstorm considered it. "Yeah, probably."

"Do you want more valuable relationships in your life?"

Brainstorm considered it. "I think so." 

"That's going to take a lot of work on your part. If you want to have more genuine relationships with others, you're going to have to put in that work to maintain them."

"I know," Brainstorm sighs, "I know."

"How do you feel about Chromedome dating someone else?"

Brainstorm blinked once, twice, and then looked over at her. "What?"

"Chromedome," she repeated, "How do you feel about him dating someone else?"

"As opposed to?"

"As opposed to you," she said, with a sad smile, "You seem quite fond of him."

Brainstorm grimaced and looked away, hesitating for a moment as he debated how honest he wanted to be. "Is it really that obvious?" he asked eventually. She nodded. "Complicated. He's never been interested in me. I wish he was. At the same time, he's never been as happy as he is now, so if I had to choose, I'd rather him stay where he is. I like seeing him so happy."

"Would you not rather he was happy with you?"

Brainstorm considered it. "When I first met Rewind he really annoyed me, but the longer I've known him the more I've liked him. I think he's kind of like me in that he keeps a lot of stuff secret and puts on a mask most of the time. I didn't know him before he was with- or at least _around_ Chromedome, obviously, but I think it's been good for him." He set his chin back in his palm. "I think Rewind has a really strong need to take care of people, and I think because of that he's been taken advantage of a lot. My point is that- I think he's happier than he was before. I think Chromedome's been really good for him. Part of me wishes that Chromedome would be happy with me but another part just thinks- well, what about Rewind? I don't want him to be unhappy either."

"That's a very nuanced perspective," she observed, "It seems like you've thought a lot about this."

Brainstorm laughed and grimaced. "Yeah." 

His therapist sighed and leaned forward on her knees, giving him an earnest look. "Brainstorm," she began, her voice gentle as if she were coaxing a wild animal to safety, "Don't you think you deserve to be loved, too?"

Brainstorm watched the cars drive through the intersection through the bay windows, and didn't answer.

* * *

Brainstorm stared at the ceiling in the dark and at the shapes he could pick out of the crackled texture when he stared long enough. Outside of his room, down the hall, he could hear his roommates struggling to stay quiet and failing. 

" _Ah,_ Rewind-" Chromedome's soft voice said, barely a murmur through two closed doors, but the house was quiet and so was Brainstorm.

He picked out constellations in the spackling and wondered if this was the best it was going to get for him. Twenty-eight years old and listening to his only friends fuck across the hall because he had nowhere else to be. No school, no job, no family home, no other people he was particularly close to. He felt like he'd been hollowed out with a spoon and left empty, and nothing in the world would ever fill the void. 

Brainstorm didn't have the stomach for self destructive ideation. The idea of hurting himself made his stomach turn and in a bizarre way he was sort of jealous of Chromedome for that. Maybe it would be easier that way. Maybe it wouldn't. He didn't really want to die, but he didn't really want to exist anymore, either. 

"I love you," he heard Rewind murmur. 

Brainstorm wasn't sure if anyone had ever loved him. Maybe Quark had. Maybe his foster mother had. He even thought Chromedome might, in a way. At the same time, he didn't know if he could feel it. He didn't know what it was supposed to feel like. He felt like he should be certain, he should be able to sense it if it was real. He didn't have a frame of reference, though, and so it remained nebulous, uncertain, like trying to catch smoke with his hands.

He turned over onto his side and dragged a pillow over his head, blocking out the sound and listening to the blood rush behind his ears, like a storm in his head that drowned out his thoughts.


End file.
